


Come Wander

by saturnsmoon



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Female Friendship, Gandalf Meddles, Middle Earth, Minor Fíli/Original Character(s), Overprotective Dwarves, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Strong Female Characters, Stubborn Dwarves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnsmoon/pseuds/saturnsmoon
Summary: Belladonna Baggins used to be a wild and strong-willed young hobbit, but once she acquired Bag End after her beloved parents' deaths, she put that life behind her. Nicknamed 'Mad Baggins' by her neighbors, she keeps to herself and convinces herself that she is comfortable in her stagnant life. Deep down, however, she hides a secret desire to journey into the vast unknown. This yearning is awoken when a wandering wizard offers to whisk her away on an adventure, and the eccentric company of Thorin Oakenshield arrives at her front door - quite unexpectedly.The company is joined by two original characters: Dwalin's warrior daughter and Thorin's headstrong niece and heiress. Fierce and witty, these two women play an important role in the quest to the Lonely Mountain.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Dwarves, Bilbo Baggins & Original Female Character(s), Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Bilbo Baggins/Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bofur/Bofur's Hat, Dís & Frerin & Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	1. Rather Unexpected

Prologue

Belladonna Baggins lived with not a care in the world. In her cozy hobbit hole under the hill, she kept the tea kettle hot and always had a fascinating book on hand. There she sat in her comfortable armchair reading away, her furry feet propped up after a long day of gardening. 

The day had been like countless others; everything remained in the same, constant rhythm. Day turned into night, and into day again. 

Most hobbits would be perfectly satisfied, and Bella had had a lot of practice convincing herself she was too. But there was something inside her, restless, yearning for something more - something unexpected. 

But that simply would not do, not when she had to look after Bag End and, not to mention, keep her reputable Baggins name. So she sat, gardened, read, and grew acquainted with her comfortable, static life. 

Unknowingly, her fate was being determined by a meddlesome old wizard. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Belladonna woke at first light, sunbeams radiated across her sleepy freckled face. She tousled her curly hair, and got up to start the day. Pattering around the quiet smial, she made herself a cup of tea and spread jam on a piece of fresh bread. She sat, sipping and enjoying her breakfast, looking out at the views outside her window.  
She tutted as she realized she would have to go to the market today, since there was a shortage of scones for second breakfast. After donning a white blouse and a skirt speckled with pink and yellow flowers, she headed out the door of her humble abode - a blue-ribboned hat on her head and a market basket in hand.  


She walked along the rolling hills of the Shire, taking in the fresh countryside air. It was spring, her favorite time of year, as nature bloomed around her. The hobbit hummed a walking-song as she picked a colorful bouquet of wildflowers. Her basket was soon filled with tiger lilies, forget-me-nots, violets, daisies, and bluebells, blanketing the book she had brought along with her. Wandering further into the more wild parts of the Shire greenery, she took off into a jog - jumping over logs as she hid away deeper in the forest. Belladonna placed her hat and basket aside and curled her arms around the trunk of an old oak. She climbed skillfully onto it's strong limbs, only stopping once she reached a particularly strong branch. She breathed in deeply as she hugged the trunk and looked out onto the blossoming forest and Hobbiton in the distance. Bella had always been remarkably good at climbing trees, and this particular one was her favorite, since Bag End was visible between the green foliage.  


Bella wrapped her legs around the branch and rested her back against the tree's sturdy trunk. A breeze rustled the leaves of the mighty tree and blew her curls around, as she daydreamed. Tales of queens, elves, and faraway kingdoms filled her head. She twirled a leaf in her hand as she practiced an Elvish phrase she had picked up in her most recent novel: _Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn - a star shines on the hour of our meeting. _She found it simply beautiful.__

A long while had passed when Bella finally swung down onto the forest floor, collected her things, and found the grassy path once more. She made her way in the direction of the market place, stopping occasionally to chat with her neighbors. After pulling herself away from a particularly long conversation about her garden with her good friend Hamfast Gamgee, she reached the bustling center of town. Hobbits laughed and greeted each other kindly. Smells of fresh produce and pastries wafted in the air, and Bella searched for the products she needed. Her face fell as she heard a familiar tinny voice and caught sight of an abhorred, gaudy hat, towering above everyones' curly heads and coming toward her. Belladonna ducked behind a cart of ribbons, pretending to admire the colorful array as she avoided her insufferable cousin.  


____

"Oh, Mrs. Daisy Boffin!" Lobelia Sackville-Bagginses shrill voice called, "My dear, I have the choicest gossip to tell you!"  


____

The women embraced in front of the cart that Bella stood behind, she practically held her breath trying not to be discovered. 

____

"It's about our Ms. Belladonna Baggins, yes old _Mad Baggins _is at it again. My dear husband Otho was frightened nearly half to death last Tuesday because she jumped out of a tree right in front of him! I was astonished, really, a woman of her age still unmarried and running around in forests like some wood sprite." The two women snickered loudly. Bella smiled remembering the look on Otho's face.__

____

__"I mean, it's really no surprise. She parades around like a respectable Baggins, but she's just too...Tookish. Remember all the shenanigans she pulled when we were younger? And I don't need to remind you about the time that she shoved me like some savage _dwarf. _I, for one, knew she would never grow out of all that. It's a pity really, if she had any sense she would hand over Bag End to Otho and I - who actually have a family to raise in it."___ _

____

___Bella did actually remember shoving Lobelia. It was many years ago, but it had been in response to nasty words said about her mother and her Took family. Lobelia certainly made sure to leave out that bit when dramatically retelling the story. Once the two women turned up their noses and went off, Bella emerged from behind the cart and continued her shopping. Her cousin's harsh accusations rang in her head, however, she didn't think on it too much as Lobelia often gossiped - to Bella's face most of the time._ _ _

____

___Once she filled her basket with groceries, she set off on the grassy paths back toward Bag End. She hiked up rolling hills and next to sparkling creeks. Her eyes squinted under the bright rays of the sun, as she tucked a daisy behind her ear. She loved her quiet walks, her mind could wander and she began to think back to the contents of the Elvish novel she recently had been preoccupied with. _The beautiful elf maid falling in love with…._  
_ _ _

____

__All of a sudden Bella was startled out of her fantasy world by a familiar, unbearable voice._ _

____

____

____

“Fancy running into you here, Ms. Baggins,” the disturber smiled at her smuggly, and she hid a grimace. Togo Proudfoot, her nosey neighbor, whom she had caught one too many times trampling her flowers. He was pompous, entitled, and Bella could not stand him.  


“Good morning, Mr. Proudfoot,” she said politely, “isn’t it a lovely day we are having?”  


“What? Oh yes, undoubtedly, “ he paused. 

The pair of them stood in an uncomfortable silence.  


“Ms. Baggins, now that I have you here, I would like to offer you a proposition. You are an adequately fair and good natured lass, and I, being of good family and stature would prove to be a good match for you. I have some wealth from my pony farm, but with your inheritance we could live quite comfortably.”  


____

____

____

He stopped his tangent, and offered her a picked daffodil. 

____

____

____

Bella’s heart sank. 

____

____

____

She began to realize what he was getting at. Togo Proudfoot was proposing marriage, and he certainly had his eyes on more than just her ‘good nature’. She had always known he was desperate to acquire the rights to Bag End, for the smial was well known and respectable. However, the sudden proposal caught her by surprise.  


“Oh Mr. Proudfoot, I…”  


“I know, you are lost for words, but let me continue. I know we have had our differences and you have refused me multiple times over the years. However, the way I see it - you’ve run out of options. My dear, you are getting older, and others are beginning to believe you to be a spinster.”  


“Mr. Proudfoot, excuse me, but I really can’t….”  


“Why do you keep refusing this Belladonna?” he began to get exasperated, “You came of age years ago. You have refused many hobbit lads who would have provided you a comfortable and plentiful life in marriage! If you refuse me now, you are sure to end up alone, _Mad Baggins!_ ”  


His words cut Bella, but the nickname was not new to her. She attempted to keep her composure.  


“Mr. Proudfoot, I thank you for your proposal and concern. I am well aware of the community’s view of me. However, I cannot accept your proposal. I am perfectly comfortable with my life and it is certainly plentiful. Good morning.” And with that she turned away and began walking back up the path toward her smial, leaving Togo Proudfoot in confusion and indignation. 

____

__"It's _ProudFEET!"_ He shouted after her.__

____

Arriving back at Bag End, she stopped in front of the freshly painted green door and looked at the daffodil still in her hands. Togo’s words rang in her head. Although she knew his true purpose and was used to his indelicate nature, she nonetheless felt disrespected and hurt.  


____

______ _ _

____

She tossed the daffodil to the ground and went inside. 

____

______ _ _

____

Bella’s mind spun with thoughts and her foot tapped rapidly. She contemplated the choices she had made in her life up until this point, especially since her dear parents passing. She never had any interest in marriage. Bag End belonged to her - Togo, Lobelia, nor Otho had any claim over it. She kept good care of it, and if she were to marry it would simply become her husband’s. She had no interest in a whiny Hobbit man to take care of; too soft in the middle, and all of whom drank far too much. And she certainly had no intention of bequeathing the estate to any Sackville-Baggins.  


____

______ _ _

____

But she began to feel pangs of inexplicable loneliness. Togo was right about one thing, she would surely end up alone at this rate. She simply did not want to give up her independence, but it had come with a cost.  


____

______ _ _

____

These heavy thoughts began to bring bouts of anxiety, and Bella felt the need to step outside to smoke her pipe. Grabbing her stashed Old Toby, she rushed outdoors to her bench and began to blow perfect smoke rings. She let out a deep breath and felt at ease - troublesome ailments leaving her mind. For a while she sat, eyes closed with a cleared head. A well-crafted smoke butterfly came back and batted its wings in her face. She sputtered and opened her eyes, coughing on the smoke.  


____

______ _ _

____

There stood a looming grey figure. An old man with a long silver beard, gazing down at her with twinkling eyes. Bella felt unsettled, but politely smiled at the elderly man, assuming he was a vagabond lost on the road.  


“Good morning,” she said, returning her attention to her pipe, attempting to be dismissive. At this, the old man raised a bushy eyebrow.  
“What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"  


Bella’s head spun from the peculiar response, puzzled, she replied, “All of them at once I suppose?” There was a long, horribly awkward pause. The old man continued looking at her quizzically.  


“I am quite busy….” Bella broke the silence, “could I help you with anything, sir?”  


“That remains to be seen,” the man said mysteriously, “I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.”  


Bella’s heart skipped a beat.  


_An adventure._ Something stirred in her that had been stagnant for years. Against her better nature, deep down, she wanted to say yes immediately.  


She snapped herself out of it.  


“An adventure?” She chuckled dismissively, “I don’t know of anyone west of Bree at all interested in adventures. Nasty and uncomfortable things...”  


She began rifling through her mailbox and looking through her letters. He was still standing, looking down at her disappointingly.  


He huffed, “To think I should have lived long enough to be dismissed so quickly by Belladonna Took’s daughter, as if I were selling buttons at the door. You have changed, Ms. Belladonna Baggins, and not entirely for the better.”  


Bella was quite startled at the mention of both her mother’s and her own name.  


“How do you know my name?” she searched his face for some familiarity, “should I know you?”  


“My dear, I am Gandalf! And Gandalf means, well, me.”  


Old memories started rushing in, and Bella remembered fondly the kind old wizard whom she had met all those summers ago.  


“Oh, Gandalf! You’re that wandering wizard with the most excellent fireworks” she beamed, “I had no idea you were still in business.”  


“And where else should I be?” Gandalf frowned. Bella lowered her eyes and awkwardly chewed on her pipe.  


“I am pleased you remember something of me, even if it is only my fireworks,” Gandalf had a peculiar look in his eyes, “Well, that is decided then. It will be very good for you and most amusing for me.”  


Bella began sputtering nonsense, “What? No, Gandalf I said no!”  


“I will inform the others.”  


“No, no, no! I really must insist. I do not want any adventures! Not today, or…uh... ever! Thank you, and… good morning!” She blabbered in alarm as she rushed up the steps and through her door. Gandalf looked after her, grey eyebrow raised.  


____

______ _ _

____

Bella slammed her door. She stood still for a moment trying to hear if the coast was clear outside. With her ear pressed against the door, she could have sworn she heard a faint scratching.  


_What could he be doing?_ She thought and went to have a look through the window. A large, grey eye was peering back at her. With a gasp, she stumbled back. She quickly made sure her door was locked, and stood with her back against the green wood. Still listening for any sound.  


Silence.  


She sighed a breath of relief, and slid down the door and onto the floor- her head held in her hands. It had been such an odd day. First Lobelia’s unpleasantness and Togo’s unwarranted proposal and then all that adventure and wizard nonsense. She hoped she wouldn’t have to see either unsavory character again anytime soon. Bella picked herself up and got on with her day, doing chores around the house, spending time in her library, and working in the garden; all the while, thinking back curiously to the adventure Gandalf was referring to. But she shook it off and went back to her work.  


____

______ _ _

____

She wished for a peaceful, quiet evening - nothing else unexpected or out of the ordinary. But deep down, she knew, something inside her had woken up.

____

______ _ _

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're all staying safe and doing okay in these troubling times.  
> I've been a fan of the Tolkien universe ever since I was young, and I have always loved the idea of a female Bilbo. I also love seeing strong female representation, and I want to try to show that in this story. 
> 
> This is my first fanfiction, but it is one that has been in the process for many years. I am just now sitting down and writing it, and I hope you enjoy!


	2. Strange Visitors

The day had passed Bella by, and it was soon dusk. She was wearing her father's old patchwork dressing gown, as she often did when she lounged about the house. The frying pan sizzled as she prepared dinner and hummed quietly to herself. 

A loud knock sounded from her front door. It was late, and Bella never expected visitors at this hour. Her mind raced thinking who it might be. When she opened the door, Bella’s green eyes widened in wonder. The figures before her were none like she had ever seen.  


_Dwarves. Two female dwarves at that._ Bella was awestruck.  


“Frera, at your service,” the blue-eyed dwarf said in a low voice. She removed her dark hood to reveal her golden mane of hair, silver beads sprinkled throughout. She composed herself with a conspicuous air of nobility.  


“And I’m Dwyna,” the second dwarf bowed to Bella and gave her a smirk, “daughter of Dwalin, also at your service.” She had stark features and thick braided sideburns. Scars littered her dark complexion.  


Bella was taken aback at the unexpected guests and hadn't a clue of how to react. She regained her composure enough to muster a reply.  


“Belladonna Baggins, at…uh…yours,” she stuttered as she tied her dressing gown closed, trying to appear presentable to these fierce women, “Can I help you?”  


“You can show us to dinner,” winked Dwyna, already pushing into the smial. Frera nodded her head to Bella and entered as well; she noticed Bella’s disarray and gave her a funny look up and down.  


“So I take it we’re early then? Or have they arrived and already got into the ale somewhere?” Dwyna laughed. She took off her fur cloak and revealed her bare biceps strapped with leather and covered in runic tattoos. Frera leaned a massive double-edged axe, almost the size of Bella, against the wall.  


“Early for what? Who?” Bella exclaimed.  


Dwyna and Frera simply looked to each other strangely. Frera opened her mouth to respond when there was another knock on the door. Bella hesitated to answer it; Dwyna raised an eyebrow at her. 

This time a massive dwarf, loaded with weapons, loomed over her - she nearly fainted.  


“Dwalin, at your service,” He bowed, “Which way is it, lass?”  


“I’m.. um.. I’m sorry, what?” exasperated Bella, as the dwarf threw his cloak at her. She tried to wrap her mind around what was happening.  


“Supper! He said there’d be food, and lots of it,” he paused once he saw Dwyna standing in the entryway.  


“Ah look who it is,” she joked, her dark eyes gleaming, “I was beginning to wonder if this fat lump would show up.”  


Dwalin roared laughing. “Now, is that anyway to treat yer father, ya rascal?”  


He embraced his daughter with a …. head butt. Bella winced.  


“What’s all of this?” Dwalin grunted and motioned to his daughter’s visible tattoos  
disapprovingly.  


“Look who's talking!” Dwyna retorted pointing at his tattooed head, “Father, you do realize I’m 77 years old? I can make my own decisions...” They began bickering in a harsh sounding language entirely unfamiliar to Bella.  


_What was going on?_ Bella felt panicked. The pair of them argued their way into the kitchen, all while Bella trailed after them. She tried interrupting their argument but was ignored.  


Frera shook her head at her attempts, “It’s no use Ms. Baggins, once those two start up, they won’t stop for anything - even battle, I’ve seen it.”  


“Right,” Frera continued, “we'll have to move this table over there, otherwise we won’t fit everyone.”  


“Everyone?!” Confusion and alarm swept through Bella. 

Another knock sounded. When Bella opened the door an older dwarf stood with his back to her. He turned and bowed respectfully, “Balin, at your service,”  


“Good evening,” she said softly.  


“Ah, yes, although I think it might rain later.” And with that, the fourth dwarf entered her home. Frera appeared in the entryway to greet him.  


“Balin, old friend, it is good to see you,” Frera embraced the old dwarf.  


“My dear, you have grown since last I saw you,” he smiled gently and placed his hand on her shoulder, “You are a spitting image of your father.”  


Frera smiled, but her eyes were melancholy as she lowered them. The sound of Dwalin and Dwyna’s arguing stopped as the two joined the reunion in Bella’s doorway. 

“Uncle!” Dwyna gave the old dwarf a harsh clap on the back, “I’ve missed you!”  


He seemed alarmed and slightly irritated at the sudden outburst.  


“I have missed your sprightliness, but not this headache that comes along with it,” he chuckled and pinched her cheek; she laughed brightly.  


“Brother, yer shorter and wider since last we saw each other,” Dwalin said gruffly.  


“Wider, not shorter,” Balin laughed, “and still sharp enough for the both of us.”  


Bella looked back and forth between them, as they stood - holding each other's shoulders. She couldn’t help but wince - again - as they knocked their heads together.  


_What is it with these people?_ Bella thought incredulously. Frera and Dwyna began moving around Bella’s furniture, while the other two rummaged through her pantry. Bella felt helpless as she hurried back and forth - protesting to no avail. 

Yet another knock resonated through the smial. She groaned, but begrudgingly opened the door. Two younger dwarves stood, a blonde and a brunette.  


“Fili,” the blonde said, looking Bella up and down.  


“And Kili,” the second added. Both of them bowed and in unison gave her yet another, “At your service.”  


“You must be.. um..,” Kili looked at her attire in confusion, “Mr. Boggins?”  


“Nope, wrong on both accounts,” Bella raised her voice in frustration, “now please leave,  
you cannot come in, you have got the wrong house!”  


Kili held the door open and exclaimed, “What? Has it been cancelled?”  


“No one bothered telling us”  


“What? No, nothing is cancelled, but….”  


“Well that's a relief” Kili gave a huge smile, and yet again, the door was pushed open.  


Bella was getting tired of the pattern.  


Fili handed his weapons to Bella smuggly, “Careful with these, I’ve just had ‘em sharpened.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  


“This is a nice place,” Kili admired. He began scraping his boot on, much to Bella’s horror, her mother’s glory box.  


“Could you please not do that!” she exclaimed, shooing him away. Frera popped into the entryway with a wide smile.  


“Cousin!” Kili pulled Frera into a huge bear hug. Fili came from behind and lifted them up, spinning around - much to Frera’s protest.  


“You rascals! Put me down!” Frera laughed. Fili caught sight of Dwyna and his face flushed bright red. He dropped Kili and Frera and blundered, “Dwyna…I.. um.. hi.”  


She laughed and punched his arm, “Hiya Fili, it's good to see you haven’t changed.”  


He held his arm and looked at her in awe. Kili and Frera laughed at the love-stricken dwarf. The four of them chattered loudly as they continued moving Bella’s furniture to the dining room. She followed them frantically, her objections tuned out by their commotion. 

There was another knock. That did it. Bella stormed toward the door, throwing Fili’s weapons aside.  


“No, no, no! There is nobody home! Go and bother somebody else! If this is some clotheads idea of a joke - it is in very poor taste!” She threw the door open, and eight dwarves fell at her feet. Looming over them was a familiar grey figure.  


“Gandalf,” Bella sighed in dismay.  


Chaos ensued in Bag End. Weapons littered the entryway and mud trailed through the carpets. Her pantry was being emptied; she tried intercepting cured meats, ale, and tomatoes on their way to the dining room.  


“Put that back!” she exclaimed as she wrestled a bottle of expensive wine from one of the dwarves’ grasps. A chubby, orange-haired dwarf passed her with three blocks of cheese in tow.  


“Don’t you think you at least need a cheese knife?” Bella exasperated.  


“He eats it by the block!” chuckled another dwarf with a floppy hat on his head. He gave her a big wink. “I’m Bofur, by the way. You seem a little on edge lass, ya need a drink or anythin’?”  


Bella gave him an irritated look, but her attention was drawn away by another dwarf getting away with her precious scones.  


She pushed up the sleeves of her green dress, and looked in disbelief at the scene in front of her. The dwarves had reconfigured her furniture and gathered in the makeshift dining hall. Fili walked across the table, ales in hand, while Dwyna was pelting bits of food at him; Kili laughed with an unsightly mouth full of food. Bofur tossed an egg to the other end of the table, where the chubby dwarf caught it in his mouth, the table erupted in applause. Dwalin was pouring ale down an older dwarf’s ear trumpet. Food began flying through the dining hall, and the dwarves were shouting, drinking, and….belching. In disgust, Bella left to check the pantry and, much to her dismay, it was completely empty.  


_Where was that blasted wizard._ She found him in a hallway holding a tiny wine glass, he seemed quite amused.  


“Well, what do you have to say for yourself,” she cried, “look at the state of my house!”  


“They are having quite the merry gathering,” Gandalf chuckled, “come now Ms. Baggins, I did not take you for someone so quick to turn away a party such as this.”  


“Gandalf, I do not know these dwarves! I like visitors as much as the next hobbit, but I would like to know them before they come visiting,” she huffed and tangled a hand in her curly hair. Just then, a timid looking dwarf approached Bella and Gandalf.  


“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?”  


Bella opened her mouth to reply, but just then, Fili came up behind them.  


“Here, Ori, give it to me,” he said as he took the plate and tossed it.  


“Careful with that! It’s over a hundred years old!” Bella gasped, but Kili caught the plate before it hit the ground. She sighed in relief, but her ears twinged at the sound of her silverware being scraped together nearby. “And, could you please not do that. You’ll blunt them!” she cried in Bofur’s direction.  


“Oooh, ya hear that? She says we’ll blunt the knives!” He joked. They began clanking out a melody with her cutlery as dishes flew through the air. Kili caught another plate as he sang:  


_Blunt the knives, bend the forks_

Standing on the table, Dwyna chimed in as she took a swig of her ale:

 _Smash the bottles and burn the corks_

Frera shook her head, smiling at her friend’s antics as she sat quietly with Balin. The rest of the dwarves caught onto the merry song, and the brothers continued to toss her dishes around as Bella ran frantically back and forth. 

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates  
That’s what Bella Baggins hates! _

Bella was reminded of parties with her family on her Took side and their many drinking songs, but she was in too much of a disordered state to dwell on that. Forks, plates, and mugs flew above her head as their cheerful song ensued. She rushed to see what the damages were, but was surprised to see all the dishes stacked in a neat pile. The dwarves laughed and pointed at her dumbfounded expression - she looked up and smiled at them in relief. 

There was a firm knock on the door. The company quieted.  


“He is here,” Gandalf said in a low voice. They proceeded to the green door, and the wizard stooped low to open it. Bella was taken aback at the dwarf standing in her doorway. He was taller than the rest, black hair framed his strong features. He looked at her with steely blue eyes.  


Bella’s heart lurched. He walked off the pages of one of her stories - a dark and mysterious hero. She felt herself in the presence of someone of great importance.  


“Gandalf,” his low voice rumbled, “I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way - twice - I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”  


Bella snapped herself out of her daze, “Mark? There’s no mark on that door, I painted it a week ago!”  


“There is a mark, Ms. Baggins, I put it there myself. Now, I’d like to introduce you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf gestured to the majestic dwarf.  


Thorin’s gaze drifted to her, he looked at her inquisitively and raised an eyebrow.  


“So, this is the hobbit?” he seemed amused as he circled her. She tensed up under the scrutiny. “Axe or sword, Ms. Baggins, what’s your weapon of choice?”  


“Well, I have some skill in conkers,” she teased, “if you must know. But I fail to see how that's relevant.”  


Thorin gave her a look up and down, and scoffed, “I thought as much, she looks more like a housewife than a burglar.” 

He turned his back on her. 

Bella had never felt so small. His harsh words stung her, and her throat felt scratchy as she held back her emotion. His insult pushed her to her breaking point.  


“Master Oakenshield, I will not permit you to disrespect me in that way in my own home,” Bella’s voice increased in volume as she confronted him - he still had his back to her, “Your company arrived uninvited, and I have been pushed around and ignored all night. I am a very amiable hobbit, but you crossed the line by ridiculing me in front of your companions in MY home.”  


Bella was shaking with anger. The doorway was silent; the dwarves looked to each other in disbelief; Gandalf seemed very amused. It was quite the sight to see the small hobbit standing her ground as the great Thorin Oakenshield loomed over her, taken aback.  


Gandalf cleared his throat and interrupted the hostile air by inviting the dwarves back into the dining room. They all readily agreed, eager to escape Bella and Thorin’s tense showdown.  


Once they were alone, they stood scowling at each other. Her green eyes unwavered - meeting the intense glare of his icy blue ones.  


“Ms. Baggins, I am sorry for the offense you felt,” Thorin grumbled, “However, _you_ cannot address _me_ in such a manner in front of my company.”  


Bella looked up at him in animosity, all of her previous admirations aside.  


_What a pig-headed apology_ she thought.  


But she simply nodded her head, “I will be sure to keep that in mind, Master Oakenshield.” 

He joined the company in the dining hall, but Bella stole away to compose herself privately in the empty pantry. She felt a rush of adrenaline, and was in disbelief at the way she addressed him. She hadn’t spoken up for herself like that in a long time. Bella salvaged whatever food was left into a stew and joined the company at the table. She set the bowl in front of Thorin, who simply nodded his head at her. She stood next to Gandalf, listening in on the serious meeting. The mood in the room changed drastically from the dancing and singing that had taken place there moments ago.  


“What news from Ered Luin, Uncle?” Frera said, sitting next to Thorin.  


“Ay,” Balin added, “is Dain with us?”  


Thorin looked down and shook his head, “They will not come, they say that this quest is ours and ours alone.”  


Sounds of dismay and disappointment rumbled through the room.  


“You’re going on a quest?” Bella asked. She looked at the scene in front of her in great curiosity. It all seemed like something from out of one of her stories. She received looks of confusion from some of the dwarves - Gandalf saw this and sent her away for more candles. On her way back, she noticed a map being drawn out, similar to some that she had in her study. Her interest peaked as she leaned over Thorin’s shoulder, “The Lonely Mountain” she said softly.  


“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, the foretells say it is time,” the older dwarf with the ear trumpet said, “It was foretold that when the birds flew back to the mountain, the reign of the beast would end.”  


“What beast?” Bella asked quietly, all eyes turned to her.  


“Ahh yes, Oin is referring to Smaug the terrible, the greatest calamity of our time,” Bofur rambled, “Airborne firebreather, razor teeth, fond of precious metals...”  


“I know what a dragon is,” Bella retorted.  


“The task would be difficult with an army behind us. We number but fifteen, and not of the best or brightest.” Balin remarked gravely.  


“We may be few in number, but we’re fighters,” Fili started.  


Dwyna slammed her fist on the table, adding, “Down to the last dwarf!”  


“And not to mention we have a wizard in our company,” Kili said enthusiastically, “he’s probably killed loads of dragons in his time!”  


Bella looked to Gandalf with a raised eyebrow. He sputtered on the smoke from his pipe.  


“How many then Gandalf?” Dori asked. “How many dragons have you killed?”  


At his silence, the table erupted in an uproar. Bella tried to calm the sudden commotion, but to no avail. Frera rose and shouted something in a language the hobbit did not understand. The dwarves were immediately silent.  


“If we have read these signs,” she reasoned, “do you not think others will have read them too?”  


Thorin nodded to her as she took her seat, he looked to his company, “Smaug has not been seen in over 60 years. Rumors have begun to spread, eyes now look to the mountain. Do we sit back and let others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!”  


The company cheered and shouted in agreement with their leader’s words. 

Balin interjected, “We forget that the gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.”  


“That, Balin, is not entirely true,” Gandalf said, producing a key. Thorin looked at it incredulously, “How came you by this?”  


“It was given to me by your father, for safekeeping, but it belongs to the King under the mountain now.” Gandalf handed the key to him.  


_King?_ Bella’s eyes widened. _Did I really just mouth off to a King?_ She shuddered to think what her dear father would have thought.  


“The map speaks of a hidden passage to the lower halls,” Gandalf explained, “and the answer lies somewhere concealed on this map. I do not have the skill to read it, but I know others in Middle Earth who can.”  


Thorin looked at this wizard suspiciously, but Gandalf continued, “The task I have in mind requires a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. That is where Ms. Baggins comes in.”  


Bella was startled and all eyes of the company fell on her. She stammered, “Wait… excuse me, what?”  


“We need a burglar, Ms. Baggins,” Frera looked at her with scrutinizing eyes, “and it seems the wizard has chosen _you_.”  


Bella’s breath hitched in her throat. “I’m not a burglar,” she exclaimed, “I have never stolen anything in my life!”  


“Ay,” Dwalin shook his head, “The wild’s no place for gentlefolk who cannot fend for themselves.” Opinions from the company - opposed and in favor of Bella - rose from all sides of the room. Incoherent shouting once more ensued, and Bella’s pleas were drowned out.  


“Enough!” Gandalf arose in thunderous glory, his voice bellowed, “If I say Belladonna Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is.”  


The room was silent, and Bella felt judgemental eyes on her.  


“Thorin, you must trust me on this,” the wizard looked to Thorin, and the dwarf nodded his head.  


“Very well,” he said begrudgingly, “We’ll do it your way - Give her the contract.”  


Balin rose and handed Bella the worn document. “Just the usual,” he said, “out of pocket expenses, method of payment, funeral arrangements.”  


Bella was taken aback at that, and gave the dwarf a funny look. She started reading the contract aloud, much to Gandalf’s amusement.  


“Laceration...evisceration…” she paused and looked closer in disbelief, “incineration?”  


Bofur saw her unease and took the opportunity, “Ay lass, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.”  


She bit her lip, holding back the anxiety she felt growing.  


“You alright, Ms. Baggins?” Balin asked with concern.  


“Yes,” she nodded her head excessively, “.. I.. um...need some air.”  


“Think furnace with wings! A flash of light, searing pain, then - poof - you’re nothing more but a pile of ash.” Bofur continued to tease. Bella looked at him with wide eyes. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain her composure. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she shook her head.  


“Nope” she said softly, as she lost consciousness and hit the ground, much to the surprise of the dwarves.  


“Very helpful Bofur,” Gandalf scolded the dwarf as he bent down and lifted her small figure; he carried her to a chair in her nearby study. 

When she finally came to, the wizard sat across from her.  


“Did I really faint?” she asked as she rubbed her head. Gandalf nodded as he lit his pipe, and Bella flushed in embarrassment. Bofur popped into the study, and brought her some tea as a peace offering.  


“Sorry about that, lass,” he handed her the mug, “that looked like a nasty tumble.”  


She simply nodded thanks and clutched the mug in her hands. Bofur laughed and ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. He left to rejoin the company in the other room, leaving Bella alone with Gandalf.  


“I’ll be alright,” she said looking to the wizard, “I just need to sit quietly for a moment.”  


“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long,” Gandalf exclaimed as he rose up, pacing the room. Bella was taken aback by the outburst. He continued accusingly, “since when did your mother’s dishes become so important to you? What happened to that young Took girl I knew all those years ago, who would’ve sprung at the chance of adventure?”  


He gestured to her books sprawled out on the table.  


“The world is not in your book and maps, Belladonna,” Gandalf continued, pointing out  
the open window, “it's out there.”  


“I cannot go running off into the blue, Gandalf! I am a Baggins, of Bag End. Not to mention a woman. You heard what Master Oakenshield said, I look like a housewife,” she huffed.  


“Oh? As I recall, you certainly gave him an earful for that,” Gandalf replied with a raised eyebrow. Bella bit her lip and looked down, ashamed.  


“Dwarves are different in that manner, Ms. Baggins. The same restrictions on women do not exist in their culture, as do in the traditions of the Shire. Take Dwyna and Frera - they are warriors. Frera is next in line, after Thorin, to rule Erebor. No, my dear, that is not the problem.”  


Bella shook her head, “I am nothing like them. I am simple and inexperienced and….” she paused, looked out of the window longingly, and continued softly, “...and I do not belong out there.”  


He looked at her knowingly, “Yet, you still yearn to go. I see it in your eyes, the same spirit your mother had. Yes, you are a Baggins, but you are also a Took. That side of you came out when you stood up against a rather arrogant dwarvish King. That is the hobbit I remember, young and wild and outspoken. Trailing mud into the house after dark, looking for elves in the woods…”  


“I grew up!” Bella interrupted, “I have responsibilities now! I am sorry, Gandalf, but you’ve got the wrong hobbit.” she said standing up, taking leave of the wizard. 

She walked soundlessly through the halls, passing Thorin and Balin on her way to her bedroom. Thorin’s gaze followed her and Balin shook his head in disappointment.  
“It seems we have lost our burglar.” 

With her head in her hands, Bella sat on her bed, her mind completely boggled at the events of the night. It all seemed like something out of a dream. Faint murmurs reached her, causing Bella’s keen ears to perk up. A mystic tune resonated throughout the smial. She followed it, as if in a trance. The sound led her to the parlour where the dwarves were gathered. She hid herself and listened to the dark melody.  


Thorin stood, his eyes glazed over as he stared into the fire. His deep voice echoed through the room. Bella felt a chill down her spine. 

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old_

Frera looked to her uncle with reverence as she joined him, her voice low and rich. Her tone was full of grim mystery, far beyond her years. 

_We must away  
Ere break of day  
To find our long-forgotten gold_

Dwyna gently put her hand on Frera’s shoulder as she harmonized, their voices dancing with the flames. Shadows fell over the dwarves’ faces, the room was full of pain and deep emotion. Their voices rang clear; the somber melody seemed to swirl with the smoke from the fire. 

_The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red, it flaming spread  
The trees like torches blazed with light _

The company sat in silence, looking at each other with a sense of understanding. Bella felt as though she was wrong to stumble in on such an intimate moment. She hurriedly returned to her bedroom where she sat in deep contemplation.  


She felt drawn to this company, this cause. Something inside her was yearning to sign that contract and journey into the unknown with them. Deep down, she knew it was the path she was destined to take. Thoughts swarmed her mind as she considered the offer at hand.  
_Was it worth the risk? What would people think of me, running away with a company of dwarves, living up to my ‘Mad Baggins’ nickname?_  


She thought of her childhood, of her mother’s stories of the vastness of Middle Earth, of her lifelong dream to go on an adventure. She thought of the unrest she knew she felt deep down. A secret desire for something more.  


_If I stay,_ she thought, _would I ever get the opportunity again to leave? Or will I be stuck in my routine - forever?_  


She drifted to sleep as her head spun with doubt and uncertainty. Her memory of the dwarves’ song lulled her, as the embers from the fire swirled out her chimney and into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes to help you along: 
> 
> Frera is the daughter of Frerin, Thorin's younger brother who died in the battle for Moria. She's older than Fili, and therefore next in line for the throne after Thorin. 
> 
> Dwyna is pronounced dwih - na. 
> 
> Also, here's a link to the cover of Misty Mountains that inspired that scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dEZMAeiAiY


	3. Home is Behind, the World is Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're off - finally! This chapter took me a while, but was so fun to write because it explores Frera's character and her backstory. I am planning to go back and forth between the perspectives of Bella and Frera. 
> 
> One major change that you'll notice if you're returning to my story is Dwalin's daughter's name. It is now Dwyna (dwih - na). When I came across it, I just loved the sound and thought it fits her well. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Frera woke before first light. She quietly rose from the makeshift beds the dwarves configured the night before, and stepped over her sleeping companions. She tried not to wake them, for they looked so peaceful - it was their first night off the road in a long while. The blonde dwarf silently wandered the halls, looking for a place to wash up. It proved to be a maze and, as not to wake anyone especially not the hobbit, she soon gave up. As quietly as she could, she opened the round door and went outside. Frera wandered in the extensive garden, the sun had just begun to rise, and she marvelled at the beauty of the surrounding flora. 

Suddenly, a twig snapped behind her. Instinctively, she brandished her concealed knife and spun around. There Thorin stood, seemingly amused at his startled niece. 

“You’re up early,” she said, placing her knife back in her boot. 

“I can say the same for you,” her uncle smiled, “you should get some more sleep Frera, it might be a long time before we stay somewhere as comfortable as this.” 

“I was starting to get restless,” she shrugged, “besides, I like waking before sunrise.” 

The pair sat down on a bench overlooking the rolling hills of the Shire. The sun was beginning to show itself over the horizon, drenching the lands in an orange hue. 

“It's a beautiful place, nothing like I’ve ever seen” she admired. She thought back to the showdown between her uncle and Belladonna the night before - she had found it quite amusing. 

“Ms. Baggins certainly gave you an earful yesterday.” She laughed at the look Thorin gave her. He was not as amused. 

“She is certainly spritely I will admit,” he grumbled, “but I fear for her safety were she to join us on this quest - it might be for the best that she stay.” 

Smoke from his pipe swirled in the chill morning air. She was content sitting next to him. She looked up to her uncle with such reverence, for he had practically raised her after her father’s death. 

Her thoughts began to dwell on her vivid dream that had woken her so suddenly, it had not been the first. Ever since setting out from the Blue Mountains with Dwyna, she had been plagued by disturbing premonitions. 

“Uncle, I have been having strange dreams of late - of dragon fire and ruin,” Fear shone in her dark blue eyes, “We are so few in number, how can there be any hope? We have a good life in the Blue Mountains, a life you made for us. We could remain living happily there.” 

“My niece,” Thorin looked at her kindly and placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “One day, and that day may be soon, you will understand. This is about reclaiming what is rightfully ours. You were so young, not even a toddler when it happened. But Erebor is your birthright - _our birthright_ \- nonetheless. It is our true home. You are a daughter of Durin, Frera. This is something _we_ must do.” 

They sat in silence for a long while, comforted in each other's company. She hardly remembered the day it happened, the day the beast took the mountain. The fires of Smaug claimed her mother’s life, her father’s taken by Azog the Defiler not long after. Her heart ached remembering her parents, and as she thought, her hand traveled to the silver locket hanging from her neck. Enclosed was a drawing of each of them - so old that the lines had blurred and become faint - but she did not remember the last time she took it off. 

Thorin looked at her knowingly, “For them.” 

The sun rose brilliantly above the hills, birds sang, and the two dwarves went back inside to avoid the suspicious stares of the Shirelings. The dwarves were just waking up, rubbing their eyes and yawning sleepily. Thorin urged them to be quiet, as to not disturb their sleeping host in the other room. Gandalf, in the kitchen, had gathered leftover food for their breakfast. He generously handed out scones and fruits to the dwarves. 

“So,” Bofur said, talking in between bites of an apple, “are we whisking away Miss Hobbit or what?” 

“Yeah,” Kili laughed with a mischievous smile, “Why don't I go and wake her up.” 

Frera was all too familiar with the look in his eyes, and cuffed his ear before he played one of his jokes on the poor hobbit. 

“Hey! I didn’t even do anything!” he exclaimed, receiving shushes from the other dwarves. 

“I know you were about to,” she whispered harshly, her eyes flaring, “Just leave our host be, I think she’s been frightened by us quite enough.” 

Thorin approached the wizard, “Will your hobbit come or not? We do not have the time to wait for her.” 

Gandalf pondered for a moment, “No, you are right. However, I am confident Ms. Baggins will join us. Leave the contract for her, she will have to catch up.” 

Thorin looked unsure and protested, but reluctantly left the contract in Belladonna’s study. The dwarves tidied up and packed quickly, not leaving a trace. They filed out of the smial much quieter than they had entered it. 

The Shire was quite a sight to behold in the early hours of the morning. As they walked, the dwarves admired the colorful gardens and dense greenery. The air was fresh and they filled their lungs with it as they made their way through the grassy paths. Sweet smells of honey and flowers reached their noses. Fili strayed off the path and picked a magnolia off a magnificent tree, painted with whites and soft pinks. He made a dramatic show of giving Dwyna the flower, who in turn swatted him with it. The dwarves laughed loudly and carelessly. It was a small glimmer of paradise. 

However, Frera was beginning to feel inquisitive eyes on the company. She could see hobbits emerging from their homes curiously in the corners of her eyes. It didn’t help that every so often Bofur tipped his hat to them, whistling loudly, “Good mornin’ halflings!” She instinctively slipped on her dark hood under the scrutiny. They walked on for a while, passing through forests and next to rivers. Once they reached a farmhouse under the canopy of trees, Gandalf stopped them. The wizard knocked on the little red door and a fat hobbit, with a face as red as the door, opened it. 

“Good morning, Master Proudfoot, I am Gandalf the Grey and these are my companions. We are here to purchase some ponies for our journey.” 

The hobbit looked astounded at the eccentric group in front of him. He stuttered, “Well then… um… good morning….. and um…. at your service of course.” 

Dwyna coughed trying to stifle her laugh, she thought he was simply ridiculous. 

Gandalf raised an eyebrow, “We will need eighteen, and we will pay you generously.” 

Mr. Proudfoot seemed to like the sound of that, and he led the company to the stables. 

“These should do the job right,” he rambled, “They’re the very best I have, best in all the Shire I’d say!” 

The dwarves began loading their packs on the ponies and saddling up. Gandalf paid the fat hobbit and slipped him an extra coin. 

“That’s for your confidence if you please. As well as a request: that if you should see Ms. Belladonna Baggins to send her in our direction.” 

The hobbit made a sour face, “Ha! I should’ve known Mad Baggins had something to do with all of this.” 

The dwarves and Gandalf were surprised at the sudden outburst and the rude nickname. 

“Hey!” Bofur exclaimed, “That’s our sort-of-friend you’re talkin’ about! How ‘bout you have some more respect.” 

“Wait ‘till people hear about all this,” Proudfoot continued, laughing, “Mad Baggins running off into the blue with a caravan of dwarves - she’ll certainly be ruined then.” 

Thorin rode his pony right up to the hobbit, startling him. He looked down threatening, his axe glinting in the sun’s rays. 

“We paid you for your silence, Master Hobbit, and that can be arranged in different ways.” 

Togo Proudfoot looked to the axe, to Gandalf with his staff, and to the other angry dwarves and their weapons. The fat little hobbit wiped his brow of sweat, blubbered something unintelligible, and promptly passed out. 

“These little people,” Dwalin commented incredulously, “They’ll really faint over anything.” 

Gandalf humphed and retrieved the bag of coins from the unconscious halfling in one swooping motion. The company rode away deeper into the forest, heading down the East Road. 

“How ridiculous was that?” Kili laughed, “I really can’t believe it!” 

“And that bit about ‘Mad Baggins’ whatever that means. She did not seem at all ‘mad’ to me.” Fili added. 

“No not at all,” Bofur chimed in, “She seemed quite friendly, and very generous with her ale. Oh that ale! I am sure missin’ it right about now.” 

Dwyna and Frera rode at the back. At this, Dwyna looked around stealthily, leaned down and procured a flask from her boot. She took a swig, and offered it to Frera. Frera sniffed it cautiously realizing that her friend had filled it with Belladonna’s ale. She looked to Dwyna incredulously, but took a sip. It was really quite good. 

“My head is killing me,” Dwyna complained, rubbing her temples. 

“I can imagine,” Frera laughed, “how much did you drink last night?” 

Dwyna contemplated for a moment and shrugged, “Definitely not as much as that one time I almost ran away with an Ered Luin merchant, but a little more than usual. Ms. Bagginses ale is divine!” 

Frera shook her head, “I think I’d better hold onto this then.” Dwyna made a mad swipe at it and protested, but Frera hid it away. She gave her friend her waterskin instead, “Here, just have some water and slow down a bit next time.” 

“Oh, you know I can’t do that,” Dwyna laughed and reluctantly took the water. 

As the company rode on, the hobbit was much the topic of conversation, and not just about her alcohol stores. Argument ensued amongst the dwarves over whether she would join them as their burglar. 

“Oh come on,” Dwalin was saying, “she fainted at the word _dragon_ , there is no way she’s fit to be a burglar - who has to steal from an _actual dragon_.” 

“I agree, the poor thing’s too soft. And what’s with those ears? Is she part elf or something?” Dori directed his question toward Gandalf. 

“No, Master Dori, certainly not. Hobbits are their own people, who simply have pointed ears, and are actually more closely related to Men than Elves.” 

“She’s related to a _man?"_ Kili’s mouth wide open in shock, he was much too far back and had misheard their conversation. 

“Yes, I believe her father was one, if I’m not mistaken.” Gandalf answered, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. 

The company roared laughing, and Kili blushed in embarrassment. Fili patted his shoulder, but he couldn’t conceal his laughter either. 

“I stand by it,” Bofur started the argument back up, “I think she’ll come runnin’ down that hill any minute.” More quietly, he added, “I mean, did you see the way she stood up to Thorin? That’s gotta count for something.” 

“Ay, foolishness most likely.” Gloin grunted. 

“Alright lads,” Nori started, he quickly added in, “and lasses!” after the glares he received from Frera and Dwyna, “Let’s settle this with a wager.” 

The odds were very much against the hobbit. Frera chose not to take part in the betting, but quietly wished that Ms. Baggins would stay - the Shire was a beautiful, peaceful place and she would be subjected to such peril. Ironically, as Frera was deep in thought over this, a small voice echoed in the distance. The company halted the ponies and watched, astonished, as Belladonna Baggins appeared in view. 

“Wait!” She was calling, barreling down a hill toward them. The contract fluttered in the wind as she sprinted. The flustered hobbit stopped in front of Balin, and handed him the worn parchment. 

“I’ve signed it!” She said breathlessly. Murmurs of bewilderment rumbled amongst the dwarves. Frera looked to Dwyna, eyes wide with surprise, the latter simply shook her head in disbelief. Ms. Bagginses eyes glittered with excitement and smiled a wide, dimpled smile at Balin who welcomed her kindly. Her hair was windblown and wild curls tangled around her face. 

“Get her a pony,” Thorin grumbled, he looked down at her in disdain. He did little to hide his displeasure at the hobbit’s arrival. 

However, Frera noticed something peculiar in his eyes, she could tell there was something else her uncle was feeling, but she could not make out what. 

A high pitched yelp startled Frera out of her thoughts. She looked behind her to see Kili and Fili lifting Belladonna up onto one of the creatures, much to her objections. She sat, wrinkling her nose. Gandalf rode up next to her on his horse, seemingly amused. 

“My dear Belladonna, I am very pleased to see you.” 

She smiled and raised her eyebrow, “Surprised?” 

“Oh no,” he winked, “I never doubted you for a second.” 

Bags of coins were being tossed around, and Gandalf caught one. 

“What’s all this?” The hobbit wondered out loud. 

“Well ya see,” Bofur laughed, “We took a wager on whether you’d show up or not, lass. Dwyna, pay up!” Dwyna cursed loudly as she threw a bag to him. 

“Ah yes, most of them bet that you wouldn’t.” Gandalf added, but she didn’t seem to be phased by this. She looked determined, if not a bit nervous, with an air of excitement about her nonetheless. 

That is, until she started sneezing incessantly. 

“Oh wait, oh _no!”_ Frera heard the hobbit faintly exclaim. She turned her head curiously to hear what she was fussing about. 

“Gandalf,” She was saying with grave disappointment, “I’ve forgotten my handkerchief!” 

Frera scoffed and heard chuckles from the members of the company within range to hear the hobbit’s dismay. Bofur tore a piece of cloth from his ensemble and waved it in the air. 

“Here, use this!” He tossed it to her. Belladonna caught it and paused for a moment, seemingly displeased, but then shrugged and pocketed it, “Thank you, I suppose.” 

“Belladonna, you will have to make do without pocket handkerchiefs! As well as a great deal of other things - home is behind you, the world ahead.” 

The sun was high in the sky and it beat down on the company as they made their way along the Eastern Road. Hobbit holes were fewer in this part of the country, and Frera felt less scrutinized; however, their surroundings had become less picturesque. Frera caught sight of a tangled, dark looking forest, it’s entrance gaping and lying aways from the path. The trees were taller than anything they had come across in the Shire - there was something unsettling looming in their branches. 

“Uncle,” Fili called, “Wouldn’t we save more time cutting through that forest over there?” 

The company’s eyes were drawn to it and there were murmurs of agreement; the hobbit’s face went pale as a ghost. 

“That’s the Old Forest,” she said gravely, “It is an ancient and cursed place, Master Oakenshield - I strongly advise going around. We will find no shortcut there.” 

“I do not believe in halflings’ superstitions,” Thorin and Belladonna locked eyes and she glared at him in indignation. 

“Well you should,” Gandalf interjected, “She is right, Thorin, we would do better to stay on the main road. We will be out of the Shire before nightfall.” 

The leader paused, contemplating, but then he nodded. They pressed on - Frera was thankful, for she felt a stale, cold air coming from the gnarled entrance. 

_How could something so dismal looking grow in a place like this?_ She thought, remembering the vibrant flowers, tall grasses, and green forests they had passed just moments ago. She glanced back at the hobbit who was eyeing the forest apprehensively. 

Day was waning as they reached the Eastern border of the Shire and entered into the vast wilderness. The dwarves were occupied with lively conversation and occasional merry songs, while Belladonna stayed close to the wizard and chatted with him quietly, the pair riding slightly behind everyone else. It soon grew too dark to travel any further and the company stopped to make camp for the night. 

Frera and Dwyna unpacked and placed their bedrolls next to each other; the blonde dwarf smiled, reminded of their journeys together - just the two of them surviving in the wild. They were truly on the road again now, Frera put herself in that mindset the moment they left the comfort of the Shire. She sat with Dwyna, Fili, and Kili under the cover of a rock ledge - they were talking and laughing loudly. A fire was started, and the dwarves reposed while waiting for Bombur to prepare supper. 

Belladonna kept to herself, grooming her pony and distancing from the company. She quietly fed it an apple while petting it lovingly. 

“Miss Hobbit, come join us for supper!” Bofur called out to her. He laughed as she walked over and sat rather awkwardly amongst them. She smiled at him timidly and gratefully took a bowl. Bofur conversed and joked with her, and she slowly became more talkative and high-spirited as the night went on. The company gathered around the fire with their dinner. Belladonna sat intently listening to the dwarves telling stories of their daring feats and showing great interest. Dwyna was avidly recounting a story from her travels in the North with Frera. Months before the long-expected meeting at Bag End, they were sent to rally rogue Dwarvish clans in the Grey Mountains to march with them on Erebor. From Dwyna’s retelling, it had not seemed to have gone very well. 

“......the bugger lifted his axe while Frera’s back was turned, but I was faster - I threw one of these” she said, brandishing the knife she had been twirling in her fingers, “and got him right between the eyes.” 

“That’s quite a theatrical account of the event,” Frera smiled at her friend, but grew somber, “However, it is true, these dwarves were unlike any I have ever come across - wild and uncivilized. They would pledge no allegiance to our cause. We were lucky to escape with our lives.” 

“This is disheartening to hear,” Balin sighed. 

“There is more,” she continued gravely, shadows fell over her face from the blaze, “There was something unnatural and evil about these lands. Something making the dwarves barbaric. Some nameless, wicked spell.” 

Gandalf seemed disturbed by this, “Mistress Dwarf, what do you mean by _evil?”_

“It was as if a dark power dominated the earth and all that lived upon it.” She looked up at the wizard, his eyes were filled with worry. She lowered her eyes and stared into the fire as other stories and songs continued. 

Supper was ended, and some dwarves retired to their bedrolls while others stayed around the warmth of the fire. Belladonna leaned against a rock and was humming softly while braiding her tangled hair. A shrill screech cut through the air. The hobbit jumped in fright and hurried closer toward the fire. Frera reached for the hilt of her axe that rested next to her - her eyes searching the trees for any movement. 

“What was that?” Belladonna squeaked fearfully. 

“Orcs,” Fili replied bluntly, his eyes not leaving the sword he was sharpening. 

Her eyes grew wide and she chewed on her lip as she looked around anxiously. 

“Throat cutters,” Kili added ominously, “there’ll be dozens of them out there. They only attack with the cover of night - no screams, just lots of blood.” 

The brothers looked at each other and snorted laughing - Belladonna let out her held breath. Frera stood up abruptly, and glared at them. She opened her mouth to let them have it, but stopped herself. 

“Fools,” she seethed and she stalked off angrily. 

“You think that’s funny?” Thorin appeared suddenly from his post. He brushed past the alarmed Belladonna and loomed over the boys, “You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” 

They turned red and looked down in shame. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it uncle,” Kili muttered, his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“No, you _didn’t,”_ Thorin said furiously, “You know _nothing_ of the world.” 

He turned his back to them and followed his upset niece. Frera had walked to the edge of the rock overhang and was looked out into the night sky. 

“Don’t mind him, lass,” Balin said reassuringly to the startled hobbit, “Thorin has more cause to hate orcs than most.” 

Balin began telling her of the Battle of Azanulbizar, the accursed Pale Orc Azog, and the countless lives lost. It was a grim tale that Frera was glad to be distanced from. She knew it all too well. Frera glanced at Thorin, who had joined her on the overhang. He stood, staring into the wild terrain that lay below them. 

“Uncle?” He was drawn from his daze, and looked at her with deeply saddened eyes. She knew his thoughts were on the story Balin had retold - on who he had lost. 

“I see so much of him in you, Frera,” Thorin sighed heavily, “So much of his spirit.” 

“I remember him. Faintly, but I can remember his laugh, his eyes, his embrace…” She paused, choked with emotion. 

“He would have been proud of who you have grown up to be.” 

Frera looked up at him and smiled sadly. Thorin glanced at his company behind them, most of them sleeping and the others gathered and talking quietly at the fire. 

“Frera, you have always known that if anything were to happen to me you would take my place. You would have to lead them.” He looked to her expectantly, reminding her of the weight on her shoulders. 

“I cannot afford to think like that uncle,” She shook her head and looked away, out into the vast unknown. 

“You do not have a choice.” He said seriously, “You are a strong leader Frera and have earned the respect and loyalty from our people.” 

“But I am not like you!” Frera blurted out, she met his eyes, “I doubt myself, and this responsibility that has been looming over me since birth.” 

“Then you are more similar to me than you think.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise at his reply. Thorin was the most confident person she knew. She had looked up to him all her life, and never once doubted his leadership. 

“I do not believe we are born great. Greatness is thrust upon us, and we must grow into it. You are young, and you are still learning - as I was when I was your age. This quest is going to test us in many ways, Frera. You must begin to accept who you are - and what you are expected to become.” 

They stood in silence. Frera’s mind plagued with the daunting task ahead. 

“Get some rest, uncle, I will take the first watch.” 

Thorin nodded and retired to the campsite. Frera sat down, her feet hanging off the edge of the rock, she put her hood on against the cool breeze. Her thoughts rested on their conversation as she looked on into the darkness. 

After a while, long after everyone had fallen asleep - Frera heard footsteps. She placed her hand on her axe that lay beside her, but she turned around only to see Dwyna. 

“Relax, it’s only me,” Her dear friend smiled and dropped down on the rock next to her, “I thought I’d keep you company.” 

She took a knife from her belt and began twirling it in her fingers as she often did. 

“What’s the matter?” Dwyna said after noticing Frera’s clouded expression. 

“Nothing,” Frera shrugged, turning away. 

“No, no, come on,” Dwyna elbowed her, “I’ve known you my whole life, Frera, I know when you’re upset.” 

She began fidgeting with one of the silver beads in her hair, “It’s just something my uncle said. Reminding me about my purpose in all this, and what should happen if…” 

She took off her hood and turned to face Dwyna, who stopped twirling the knife at Frera’s sudden movement. 

“I always knew, I have been preparing my whole life, but I never came to terms with the fact that I could very well be entrusted as a _Queen_ at the end of all this. And to be honest with you, it frightens me. When the time comes, I… I do not know if I can lead these people. I do not know if they will follow _me_ the same way they would follow Thorin.” 

“Oh, you brooding warrior princess.” Dwyna grinned at her cheekily. Frera laughed and hit her friend’s shoulder, “Don’t call me that!” 

Dwyna smiled warmly and continued more seriously, “Our people do believe in you, you just have to have more faith in yourself. You are not Thorin, or Thrain, or Thror, or even Frerin - you are Frera; fearless, strong, and someone I would follow to the very end. You are a natural leader, you always have been. Also, should anybody criticize your leadership, you will always have me to persuade them otherwise.” She gestured to the knives strapped to her sides. Frera chuckled, and Dwyna placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. 

“All will be well, trust me.” She said sincerely. 

“I trust you.” 

The two friends sat comfortable together, looking into the black abyss below them. Dwyna hummed a song, while they watched the stars appear on the dark canvas of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes to help you along: 
> 
> I added the bit about the Old Forest because that chapter in Fellowship of the Ring always interested me. Later, when Bella gets more acquainted with the dwarves, her reaction will be explained as she has some history with the forest. 
> 
> Frera and Dwyna's experience in The Grey Mountains and the whole idea of the dark power growing will be elaborated on, and is supposed to relate to what Radagast experiences in the Greenwood and discovers in Dol Guldor - but all in good time!


End file.
